My Sister's Keeper
by SapphireRainbow
Summary: Gabriella Bolton looked up at the reverend. "He shouldn’t be the one up there," she thought to herself. "He didn’t know my daughter." "But, then again, did I really know her either?" Based off of the novel by Jodi Picoult
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own any HSM characters. Nor do I own the idea, I just borrowed it from the novel by Jodi Picoult and put my own spin on it**

_Prologue_

Gabriella Bolton sobbed into her husband's shoulder.

He rubbed his hand up and down her arm, his own tears streaming down his face.

Above her sobs, she could hear the reverend speaking.

Speaking about her daughter.

She saw her son next to her husband, clad in all black. Her remaining daughter was sitting next to her son in a bright orange dress.

Earlier that morning, when Gabriella had seen her daughter in the vibrant dress, she just stared in shock, ordering her to change. But her daughter said her sister would have wanted her funeral to be a celebration of her life, not a mourning of her death. And she couldn't argue with that.

She wiped at some of the tears, and willed herself to pay attention.

The reverend was now going on about how wonderful of a young woman her daughter was.

_He shouldn't be the one up there, _she thought to herself. _He didn't know my daughter. _

_But, then again, did_ _I_ _really know her either?_

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so, this was the prologue chapter. It's shorter than the rest will be, so as to just get a feel for the story. The rest of the story will be looking back on the events that lead to this. It's based off of the novel of the same name by Jodi Picoult, I highly recommend.  
And, **_**REVIEW**_**! Please, with any thoughts whatsoever. Let me know if it seems worth continuing. I've written most of the first chapter, so I'll try to upload that soon, but I'm sick, so I might not be able to right away. **


	2. A Normal Family

**Disclaimer: I don't own HSM, Troy, Gabriella, or any other recognizable anything. I don't even really own the idea, as it's based off of a novel. So that's Jodi Picoult's too. All I do own is my own spin to it, really.  
A/N: Okay, so, just a quick note, whenever you see 'Eth' in this story, it's pronounced like Eeeth, not Eh-th. As in, a short form of Ethan.  
And, remember, this is **_**years **_**before the prologue. Enjoy!**

Chapter 1- 'A Normal Family'

_Gabriella's POV_

"Leila, breakfast!" I call, placing her waffles on the table and getting a fork out of the drawer.

A few seconds later a little girl still in her pajamas came trudging in, rubbing her eyes.

"Morning Layliebug," I say, kissing her forehead. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah, I guess," she yawned, climbing into her seat at the kitchen table. "Hey, where's Ethan?" she asks, suddenly realizing her older brother wasn't anywhere to be found.

"Still sleeping, I let him sleep in," I explain, pulling up a chair next to her, my own plate of waffles in front of me.

"Why does he get to sleep in when you woke me up at seven?" She asks.

I laugh. If at two years old she values her sleep this much, how will we deal with her as a teenager?

"Because," I explain, "Now, when he wakes up he won't get any waffles, will he?" I say, popping my fork into my mouth.

"Oooh!" She shrieks "_And _they're chocolate chip! His favorite!"

"Yup," I smirk "Glad I woke you up now?"

"Yemm momwy" she says, her mouth full.

Once we finish our meal, I start cleaning as Leila paints at the kitchen table.

Finally, three hours later, I hear footsteps approaching the kitchen as a head of dark brown hair pokes its way into the kitchen.

"Mommy made waffles and you missed them! Hahahaha" Leila says, mockingly.

"Leila, don't torment your brother," I sigh.

"Mom! That's not fair! You could've waken me up!" He shrieks.

"Ethan, you're such a grouch when you wake up. I wasn't in the mood for that today. Besides, you always beg me to let you sleep in anyway," I sigh, annoyed already, and it was only ten o'clock.

"Fine," he pouts "So, what, do I just not get breakfast?"

"Eth, do you ever not get breakfast?" I ask, already opening the cabinet and grabbing a box of cocoa pebbles and a bowl. "Get yourself a spoon, buddy."

He does so, albeit grumpily. I ignore the rolling of his eyes, and turn my attention to my daughter who, by this time, was in a yellow sundress, her sandy blonde hair in pigtails.

"What are you painting, Lay?" I ask, making my way back over to the table.

"A butterfly!" She tells me happily, pointing at it.

Leila is a pretty great artist for a two year old, but, as I look at it, I hadn't expected it to look quite so much like what she had intended. The wings were a beautiful orange with black and white dots, just like a monarchs'.

"Wow, that's gorgeous, honey. I love the wings!"

"Thanks, they're orange, my favorite color!" She smiles up at me, her beautiful eyes the same blue as her father's shining with happiness.

"I know, it's lovely," I smile back, "Where are you going to put it?"

That was the thing about Leila, every painting she made, she had in mind a spot where she wanted to hang it, of course, several wind up in a chest in the living room, along with other miscellaneous crafts by Ethan and herself.

"Can we put it in the dining room?" she asks, hopeful.

I wonder why she chose there, as we rarely ever eat in there, even on holidays we prefer the small kitchen table which is much more home-y. But, whatever her reason, I know she has one.

"Yeah, of course, sweetie, just leave it out a little so it can dry first,"

"Mommy, I'm done" I hear Ethan say, and I walk over to get his bowl to wash off, not wanting to have to fill the dishwasher this early in the morning.

"See, cereal isn't that bad, huh?" I ask lightly, ruffling his hair.

"No, I guess not, but still…"

I laugh, _Why, _I wonder, _do kids make such a big deal out of everything?_

"Alright, now what do you two want to do?" I ask, knowing they'll be complaining of boredom in a few short minutes.

"Ride bikes?" Ethan asks, his chocolate brown eyes filling with anticipation.

"Yeah, sure, Leila, that sound good to you?"

"Yes!Yes!" She shrieks, jumping up and down. Although it was already mid-June, there'd been so much rain that we had all been cooped up in the house, but today had clear skies, and we all need an escape from the house.

"Ethan, why don't you go brush your teeth and get dressed?" I suggest, although I wasn't exactly asking.

I wait for him to sigh or roll his eyes at this, but all I get is a 'yes mommy' and I see my four year old son run up the stairs.

"Okay, Leila, let's get your shoes on, okay?" I ask, grabbing her white sandals with little yellow flowers plastered on the straps.

She nods, and sits down, sticking her feet out for me to put them on.

"Okay," I start, holding up her left sandal, "Which foot does this one go on?"

She hesitates for a few seconds before raising her left leg "This one!"

I smile and nod "Yes! You got it, sweetheart," I say, slipping her sandal on and attempt to buckle it, wishing we had gotten her Velcro instead.

Just as I buckle her second sandal, Ethan appears back downstairs, dressed and ready to go. I look down at his feet and see his has his sneakers with the basketballs on the sides on and laugh at the work of my husband.

"Okay, guys, let's head out!" I say, following them into the kitchen and through the laundry room which leads to the garage. As I enter the laundry room, I'm prepared to push the garage door button on the wall once I reach it, but Ethan beats me there, and attempt to stand on the railing of the stairs leading from the house to the garage to reach it. Exactly the way Troy and I have taught him_ not _to do it.

_Oh no! _I think, as I see him began to wobble. "Ethan! Get down! Quickly!" I shout, running over to him. I catch him just before he would have hit the ground and breathe a sigh of relief.

"Ethan! Never ever _ever _do that to me again, okay? I was so scared!" I say, hugging him close to me.

"Sorry Mommy," he says timidly, knowing he shouldn't have attempted that.

I sigh, _No use getting mad over this _I think. "It's alright, Eth. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"Alright, then no serious harm done, but just don't ever do that again," I tell him, standing up, and putting him on the ground. "Go grab your bike now, bud," I add, clicking the button and I hear the garage door noisily raise itself. Looking around, I see Leila a few feet away, looking uncertain.

"Hey, baby," I say, walking over to her. "You okay?"

She nods and holds out her hand for me to take.

We walk over to her bike, which is a light lavender with a wicker basket covered in plastic butterflies of all colors, and I release her hand. "Can you take your bike out front and wait in the driveway with Ethan while I get your helmets?"

"Sure Mommy!" She says, pulling her bike behind her, the training wheels wobbling as she skips out of the garage, and I smile behind her.

I rummage through tennis rackets, basketballs, golf clubs, roller-skates, and several other miscellaneous knickknacks before I find a Spiderman helmet and a Princess Jasmine one. I carry them outside and help first Ethan and then Leila fasten them onto their heads.

"Alright, now, Ethan, remember, only to the stop sign unless you come get me so Leila and I can come with you, okay?" I remind him, and he nods excitedly. "And, if you want me to go get your other bike out, we can, okay? Don't feel like you need to use this one," I say, knowing ever since we got him a new bike without training wheels, even if he doesn't feel steady he won't use his old one.

"I know mommy, I promise," He says, already hopping on the bike and peddling down the hill of the driveway and into our street. I smile down at him, still amazed at just four years old he's already riding a two-wheeler. I watch Leila slowly peddle her way down the hill, carefully avoiding any bumps, and as she smiles, victorious, once she reaches the sidewalk. I pull over the chair that's currently on our front porch down to near the sidewalk, as to watch them better, and sit. As Ethan passes me again he turns and smiles and I wave and give him thumbs up.

After both of them have ridden back and forth down our little street what must have been hundreds of times I pull out my cell phone to check the time. 12:32. _Wow, It's already been almost two hours? Time really does fly. _"Ethan! Leila come on guys! Time to go in now!" I call as I see them turn back around and swiftly ride over to me. Ethan arrives back first, quickly jumping off his bike and unsnapping his helmet, running over to me.

"Mommy! Did you see me?!" He asks excitedly.

"I did! You were great!" I encourage. He smiles hugely, and turns as we hear Leila turn into the driveway. He runs over and helps her off of her bike, unsnapping her helmet, causing me to smile at such a great kid he is.

"Okay, you two ready for lunch?" I ask, and the quickly nod their heads excitedly. "Alright, you two bring the bikes in, I'll grab the helmets and the chair, okay?"

"Okay," they say in unison, grabbing their bikes and racing each other into the garage.

A few minutes later we're all in the kitchen, and I'm looking through the fridge. "What do you guys want for lunch? Chicken fingers?" I ask, realizing I'll probably have to go to the grocery store tomorrow.

"Oooh, yes please!" Ethan says, while Leila just nods.

"Alright, I'll start them now, you two can go watch TV or play for…" I pause to look at the directions on the box "…about 15 minutes,"

They shuffle into the hall, no doubt heading to the playroom, and I preheat the oven and get out the ketchup.

A little under twenty minutes later I pull the tray of chicken fingers out of the oven and put three pieces on a plate for Ethan, three on a plate for myself, and two on a plate for Leila, then grab two juice boxes out of the fridge and toss them onto the table. I cut up several pieces of watermelon for them to share and, finally head off to go get them.

"Leila! Ethan! Lunch!" I shout, walking into the hall, by the playroom. As I walk in, both quickly scurry up and follow me back to the kitchen, sitting down and chomping away.

After we eat, I put Leila down for a nap, which she clearly was in great need of considering she didn't even protest not being allowed to stay up with Ethan like she always did.

"Just me and you, Eth. What do you want to do?" I smile down at him.

"Can we watch a movie?" He asks. I think about this. We haven't watched any movies in a while, and after a tiring few hours of playtime, I'm sure he could use a break to relax.

"Sure, what do you want to watch?"

"Um…do we still have Toy Story?" He asks, and I can't help but smile. Toy Story had always been my favorite, ever since I first saw it when I was only a few years older than he is now. I thought back to all of mine and Troy's movie nights in high school, and how many times I had begged him into letting us watch it.

"Of course we do. Want me to make some popcorn?" I ask, already digging into the movie cabinet, locating it quickly.

"Yes, please. Extra butter," He smiles, and I laugh.

A few hours later, just as the end credits are coming on, I hear tiny footsteps upstairs.

"Leila." Ethan says, his eyes not leaving the screen.

"I know, I'll go ge-" I start, but am interrupted by a voice behind me.

"Mommy…" Leila says, crawling onto my lap.

"Hey Princess, good nap?" I ask, and she nods into my chest, holding onto me.

"Yeah…" she says, the grogginess still in her voice.

"I need to start dinner now," I sigh, kissing her on the forehead. "You and Ethan can watch some TV while I start," I murmur, tossing my son the remote.

I walk into the kitchen and start everything we'll need for our citrus lime chicken.

Just as the chicken is about to finish cooking, I hear the garage door open, and smile brightly, as the kids run into the kitchen, just as the door leading from the laundry room opens.

"Daddy!" They shriek, running over to hug their father's legs, as he bends down to kiss them hello.

"Hi Ethan, hi Leila! Have a good day?" He asks, as they nod.

"Yes!" Ethan pipes up. "Leila and I rode bikes, and Mommy and I watched Toy Story,"

"Oh, really? That's awesome, you'll have to tell me more during dinner, okay?" Ethan nods, and scampers back to the television room. "You have fun riding too, sweet pea?" He addresses Leila.

"Yeah, tons! And I painted a picture, I'll show you later, okay Daddy?" She asks.

"Of course Lay. Why don't go with your brother now?" He suggest, and she runs off too.

Troy now walks over to me, wraps his arms around my waist, and lays his chin on my shoulder.

"Hey, beautiful," he whispers into my ear, and I smile. "Good day?"

"Mhmm," I sigh. "We had lots of fun, it was such a relief to be able to leave the house today. But I missed you," I say, turning around to kiss him, glad to have him back home.

"I missed you too, and them," He smiles. "Smells good, what is it?"

"Citrus lime chicken," I say, and, as if on cue, the timer goes off. "Speaking of which…" I sigh, pulling it out.

"I'll get them," he says, ducking out of our kitchen.

As we sit down, the kids animatedly chatter away, Troy and I jumping into their conversations at random intervals, and, I feel completely totally and blissfully happy.

I didn't know that in less than twenty-four hours my entire family's lives would be flipped upside down.  
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**A/N: And that was chapter one! Much different than the prologue, I know, but this is just how the story has to work, so stick with it. Within the next one or two chapters, the plot will get started. So enjoy the upbeat-ness of this chapter while it lasts.**

**And, please, review!  
~Bri**


	3. A New Beginning

**A/N: Okay, this story has gotten a ton of views, a few favorites, and a few alerts. And no reviews. Which really is depressing, if you're interested enough to fav. it, can't you take two seconds to leave a review? I don't care if its three words, it'll mean the world to me. So, to anybody reading this, please please please review, constructive criticism, any type of feedback. Otherwise I might lose the will to want to write this.**

** Alright, without further ado, here is chapter two! (Hey, that rhymed)**

**Disclaimer: Don't own HSM, or any recognizable anything. Idea is Jodi Picoult's. Just own my own spin to it.**

Chapter 2- 'A New Beginning'

_Troy's POV_

"Alright, lovely Leila, bath time!" I say excitedly, hoping my cheeriness can rub off on her.

"NO! Daddy! Please!" She begs me, pouting.

_Oh no. _I sigh _the pout? I'm powerless to that pout. Why did I have to choose _tonight _to give Gabriella a break from bath time?_

"Lay, come on, it'll be really quick, and then you can get in your pj's and go to sleep, and wake up and go play again, okay?" I ask, hopeful. She shakes her head. "Come on, I promised Mommy I'd give you a bath, we don't want to make Mommy mad, do we?" She shakes her head. "Alright, see, so you'll take a bath?" She thinks about this for a minute.

"…okay. But it has to be really quick," She says, looking up at me.

"I promise," I smile, grabbing her hand. "Alright, let's get going!" I say, lifting her onto my shoulders and carrying her upstairs. I walk into her bedroom, and put her down.

"Alright, Miss Leila, what pajamas do we want to wear today?" I ask, opening her dresser drawer. "We have purple with yellow flowers, Arial, a flower nightgown, a---"I'm cut off by her.

"I want to wear the blue shirt with the butterfly pants." She informs me.

"I didn't even name those yet!" I say, jokingly pretending to be mad, causing her to giggle.

"Daddy, but I see them," she says, pointing.

"Oh would you look at that, they are there, huh?" I say, tickling her.

"Alright, no more funny business, it's bath time!" I say, carrying her into the bathroom, while she continues to laugh.

"WAIT!" She shrieks, just as I'm about to close the door, and sprints out of the room and into Ethan's room.

"Leila!" I shout, running after, only to see her rummaging through her brother's toy chest. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for my basketball," she explains, not looking up at me. She means her plastic basketball she uses in the bathtub, with the little net that hangs to the shower walls.

"Need help?" I ask, and, as she's about to answer, she instead finds what she was looking and holds it up, smiling victoriously.

"Found it!" She says, walking back into the bathroom.

I start the water and get out the bubble bath. Once the bath is full, she climbs in and starts playing with the bubbles. She puts bubbles on her chin and pretends to be Santa, causing us both to laugh.

After a few minutes, I pull out a Pocahontas washcloth, lather it with body wash and, as I'm washing her back, I notice a purple-brown spot. And then another one right below. Bruises, I see. "Hold on a second, Lay" I say, and crack open the bathroom door. "Gabriella?" I shout into the hall.

I hear a muffled 'coming' being shouted back at me, and I turn back to my daughter.

She looks up at me "What Daddy?" I put on a false smile and shake my head.

"Nothing baby," I say, and hand her the basketball. "Play with this, how about? Careful not to slip?" I ask, as my wife enters the bathroom.

"What?" She asks, and smiles as she sees Leila shooting the ball into the net.

"Did she fall at all today? Maybe when they were riding bikes?" I ask, hushing my tone, so Leila doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

"No," she says, "Why?"

"Because she has a bruise on her back, two actually," I say, and she leans down to Leila, asks her to stand still, and inspects the bruises.

"No, she didn't fall at all, that's weird," She pauses "But, hey, she's a kid, they get hurt all the time, right? Nothing to worry about," she says, smiling slightly.

"Right…nothing to worry about," I answer back, pretending to smile up at her, and she leaves the bathroom, no doubt getting back to Ethan.

After drying Leila off and dressing her in her pajamas, I see it's only 7:45, but she's yawning, so I tuck her into bed, and she falls fast asleep. Which is odd because during the summer, when Ethan doesn't have pre-school, she always stays up with him. I shrug this off though, and go downstairs to join the rest of the family.

"Hey," I say, entering the family room, only to see that Gabriella and Ethan are playing action figures.

"Wanna play Daddy?" He asks, holding one out to me.

"Sure, bud," I say, sitting in between him and Gabriella.

"Where's Leila?" she asks.

"Sleeping, actually," I say, and she looks at me funny. "You did say they were outside, she probably needs to get used to being active again, huh?" I ask, and she nods, turning her attention back to our son.

The next morning, I walk downstairs, happy to have the day off, and find Ethan sleeping on the couch. As I sit by him, I see him stir. "Daddy?" He asks, groggily.

"Yeah…why are you on the couch?" I ask, remembering kissing him goodnight in his own bed last night.

"I came downstairs to get water, and didn't want to go back up," I laugh at his answer, ruffle his hair, and smile.

"Oh, okay, Eth, want breakfast?" I ask, turning to him.

"Maybe like five minutes?" I nod to him.

A few seconds later, Gabriella appears downstairs, already dressed in jeans and a flowing purple tank top. "Morning Brie," I say, kissing her lightly.

"Good morning yourself," she smiles. "And to you too, Ethan,"

She turns her attention back to me "Do you want to go get Leila? I know it's pretty early, but she went to bed early last night, and if she sleeps too late, I'll never get her down for her nap," she explains.

I nod "Sure, should I start breakfast before or after?" I ask, and, as if on cue, her stomach growls.

"Before, please," She laughs, and I smile.

"What'll it be?" I ask, shuffling into the kitchen.

"Scrambled eggs, please!" Both she and Ethan say in unison, and I laugh, starting them.

"I'll start them, wake her up really quickly, and finish them, okay?" I ask, and they nod.

When I reach my daughter's room, I walk over to her bed, shake her lightly, and kiss her forehead.

"Princess? Time to get up," I say, and she stirs.

"Okay…" She yawns, sitting up.

"Want to get dressed now or after breakfast?"

"Now please," She says, and I pull out a purple skirt and a white t-shirt.

I change her into her skirt first, tossing her butterfly bottoms into the hamper.

When I pull her pajama shirt off, however, I notice her two bruises has become a trail of them, along her spine. This, I realize, _is _something to worry about.

"BRIE!" I shout, loudly, willing her to hurry.

"Hold on!" She shouts back.

"NO! BRIE! NOW!" I yell, hoping for her to understand. "Leave Ethan downstairs!" I shout as an afterthought, not wanting him to hear a conversation he would be able to understand better than Leila would. I look over at my daughter who is looking at me scared. "Oh, shhh, Lay, shh. Sorry, Daddy didn't mean to scare you," I whisper to her, kissing her forehead. "I love you baby,"

"I love you too," She says, hugging me. Finally, the door flies open, Gabriella running over to us.

"What? What happened? Are you okay? Is she okay?" She asks, frantic.

"Well," I pause, how do you tell your love that something is wrong with your daughter? "It's just..you know the bruises on her back?" She nods. "Well, now look…" I say, pausing for her to see them herself. She gasps at them, and turns back to me.

"That's not good," Is all she says, tears in her eyes.

"I know, I know," I whisper.

"What should we do? Take her to the doctor's?" She asks, walking over to Leila, and pulling her shirt over our daughters head, being careful pulling it down her back.

"Yeah, I guess so…do you want to grab Ethan? Or do you want me to?" I ask.

"Um, can you bring him clothes down and wait for him to change? I'll take Leila and gather our things, call the doctor, and we'll wait in the car for you two?" She suggests.

"Yeah, of course, Ella," I say, squeezing her arm in reassurance, before heading into our son's room.

Just as I'm heading down the stairs I see Gabriella holding Leila, her cell phone pressed to her ear, stuffing random items into a bag, when the fire alarm goes off.

"Shi---oot," I correct myself, seeing Leila in the next room. "The eggs!" I mumble, sprinting down the stairs, tossing clothes at Ethan "Quick, change Eth, we're going to the doctors, okay?" I ask, already running into the kitchen, I open the windows, and flag a towel by the stove I've just turned off, hoping to reduce the steam. _Of course, _I think, _What else could go wrong today?_

Finally, the incessant beeping stops, just as Ethan emerges from the bathroom, in jeans and a red t-shirt.

"Alright, Ethan, Mommy and Leila are in the car, we have to go, I'll explain later, come on," I say, grabbing his hand, and running out the door.

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"Bolton?" The receptionist calls into the waiting room, as the four of us stand up and walk into the room. We sit Ethan down at a table in the room, Gabriella pulls out a coloring book, action figures, and a portable game system from her bag and hands them to him. The doctor comes in, and asks us why we're here.

"Well," I start "Last night I was giving Leila a bath, and I noticed two small bruises on her back, but we brushed it off, thinking she just fell or something when we weren't around…but, this morning I was dressing her, and there's a whole trail of them down her spine" I say, grabbing Leila's hand.

Dr. Glassman performs all of the necessary checkups, and Gabriella turns to her.

"Anemia, right?" She asks, "I mean, what else can it be?"

"Well, it could be a number of things, we'll have to run a blood test," she says.

Leila squeezes my hand particularly hard at that. "With needles?" she asks, scared.

"Yes, honey, but it'll be okay, I promise," I say, squeezing her hand right back.

After the doctor draws blood, Leila sucks happily on the lollipop, as we head home, the doctor said she would call as soon as the results were in. Which could take days.

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Sure enough, two days later, I get a call at work from Gabriella.

"Hey, what's up?" I ask her, smiling.

"The doctor called…..she wants us to go to the hospital," She says, breathing in a shaky breath.

"The…the hospital? What? Why?" I ask, scared for our daughter.

"I don't know…she just said she'd meet us there, and they needed to run more tests, I just don't know,"

"Okay, okay, I'll leave work right now, I'll meet you guys there, okay?"

"Okay…thank you Troy," she practically whispers.

"Shhh, Ella, shh, it's okay, I'll see you in fifteen minutes, okay?"

"Okay, see you then. I love you," She says, clearly needing me there.

"I love you too, so much. It'll be okay. I'll see you soon." I reply, hanging up.

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Fifteen minutes later I reach the hospital, and run into the main floor, and the same time my phone rings. _Gabriella _the caller ID says, her picture from high school shows up, the one I haven't changed in ten years.

"Brie? I'm here. What floor?" I ask, running to the elevator.

"Three. We're to the left." She answers.

"Okay, I'm on my way up."

I reach the elevator, hit the '3' button, and run out as soon as it pings and the door opens. And, sure enough, I see the three of them right to the left.

"Daddy!" I hear little Leila's voice first, as she runs over to me, and I hug her.

"Lay, Lay, Lay," I whisper into her hair. When I release her I instantly slip my arm around Gabriella's waist, and we make our way over to where Ethan is still sitting, playing on his Nintendo DS.

What feels like an eternity later, Dr. Glassman approaches, another doctor behind her.

"Mr. and Mrs. Bolton, this is Dr. Reese, he needs to run more blood tests on Leila," she informs us.

"What is it?" Gabriella asks.

"Mrs. Bolton, we're not sure yet, that's what the tests are for. We'll need to go to floor 6," Dr. Reese tells us.

And I can see the color drain from Gabriella's face faster than I thought possible. I was about to ask what was wrong when she spoke up. "But floor 6…that's oncology. Cancer," She says, praying she had misunderstood. And when the doctor doesn't say anything, we realize it's no mistake.

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Hours later Gabriella and I are facing the doctor is asking us every question imaginable. From the night she was conceived, the first time she rolled over, when she started to walk, when she got her first tooth, and everything in between.

Leila has gotten several more tests done, and an x-ray. And no answers.

Finally, a man in a lab coat approaches us. "Mr. and Mrs. Bolton?" We nod. "We'll need to a coag panel on Leila."

"What?" Gabriella asks, fury in her eyes "Why can't you do a finger stick?"

"Mrs. Bolton, this is much better," The man informs us.

"I. Don't. Care." She says, "My two year old daughter has gone through more in the past few hours than most two year olds will in their lives. I don't care about what's easier on you,"

"Gabriella…" I start.

"Troy," she mocks back.

I looks back, only to see that the doctor has now left. I sigh heavily.

Finally, Dr. Reese comes back in the room, and we look up at him.

"So, we got the results. Leila's blood count had abnormal results," he informs us, and proceeds to run down a whole bunch of hemoglobin and red blood cell statistics that make no sense to me, but Gabriella can probably make out more than I can.

"So, basically," he continues, "What we're looking at is…" he pauses, and then he speaks those words, the words that no matter what I do I cannot forget, the words that would end up, somehow, ending my daughter's life. "…well, Leukemia."

**A/N: What'd you think? Sorry if some of the medical terms are…not here. And they probably really won't be, considering I'm not a doctor, but I'll try to make as much sense as I can.**

**And, review! Please, I'm seriously desperate! First reviewer (and any subsequent ones) will by my hero. Seriously. I'll start chapter 3 tonight, hopefully I'll finish soon. I have up to chapter 14 outlined. I'm not sure how long this story will be, I'm guessing around 20 chapters, give or take. **


	4. Hope

**Disclaimer: Don't own it. Nada, zilch, zero. **

**A/N: Okay, for anyone interested I finished outlining the entire story, and it looks like it will be 20 chapters exactly, not including the prologue or epilogue. So, 22 I guess. Enjoy! And a very huge thanks to everyone who reviewed!**

Chapter 3- 'Hope'

_Gabriella's POV_

It takes me a few minutes to realize that I've been staring at the same spot on the wall, completely zoned out, for who knows how long. I've been doing that a lot these past few days. I run my hands through my daughter's hair, and rub her back soothingly as she sleeps. Lately she has been taking a habit to falling asleep in either my or Troy's arms.

I don't know how long I've been watching Leila sleep before I hear Ethan shout from upstairs, sprinting his way down the staircase, taking them two at a time "She's here! She's here!" I lift Leila off of me and rest her on the couch, draping a blanket over her.

As I reach my son in the foyer, I reprimand him for his screaming. "Ethan! Don't shout, okay? Leila needs her rest, we've told you that."

"I'm sorry, Mommy," he says looking down. And then I realize I haven't spent any time at all with just him since we got Leila's diagnosis. And that makes me feel like the world's official worst mother- one sick daughter and a neglected son. "It's okay, just try to remember," I whisper, smiling warmly at him, and he nods. "I love you, Eth, don't you ever forget,"

He giggles at this "I love you too Mommy," he says, anxiously peering out the door.

"Go on, you can meet her outside I say," And smile as he sprints out the door, shouting "Aunt Shar!", and as she runs over to him and spins him around.

His Aunt Shar, Sharpay Evans, is my best friend. We've been friends since the end of senior year in high school. She's also the only person other than Troy that could possibly make me feel slightly better at a time like this. I haven't seen her in almost a year, this is because we live in California, while Sharpay lives in New York. As soon as she releases Ethan, she turns to look at me, and I run over to her, flinging myself into her arms. And I begin to sob.

"Shhhh," she soothes, sounding as if she's about to cry herself. After a few minutes, I look up, wipe my eyes, and apologize. "I'm sorry," I say, "It's just…these last few days…I don't know," I sigh, wiping the tears that just won't stop.

"Gabriella, there's nothing to apologize for. It's amazing you've stayed in one piece this long," She soothes, as if I'm a toddler that fell and scraped their knee. "Where is she?" She asks, quieter.

"Sleeping," I say, "On the couch."

"Alright, well, I'll just have to say hi to her later. Let's go in," she says, and we enter the house, and it seems like a billion times before that I've welcomed her in, on birthdays, or holidays, or just a random visit. Only this time, it's different. She's not reminding me all that I could have done had I not given up my career as a lawyer once Ethan was born, but she's helping me cope with the fact my daughter is dying.

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A few hours later, we're all in the play room, Leila glued to her aunt's lap, as though she's known her forever, although I doubt she can remember the last time Sharpay was here because she was too young. Ethan is playing with blocks at my feet.

"So, when's the next appointment?" She asks me, after making sure Ethan was distracted.

"Tomorrow, at ten," I answer automatically. These last few days have revolved around appointments and test results.

She nods, and we watch in silence as Leila crawls off of Sharpay and joins her brother on the floor.

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"So, are you saying" I ask the doctor, once he's explained to me our possible options over what to do next "that, if we find a donor, Leila might get better?"

"She may, whether it be a permanent 'better', or just a momentary pause we aren't sure," he says. "Family is always best to be tested first for a genetic match," He says, and I nod.

"Troy and I of course will be tested," I insist, and he shakes his head.

"With parents the odds of all six proteins matching up to a child, is practically unheard of."

"It's worth a shot," I say.

"I suppose," he agrees. "Aunts, uncles?"

"Troy and I are both only children," I say softly, feeling as though our odds just decreased exponentially.

"And…Ethan?" He asks.

"He's just four," I say, not wanting him to go through anything.

"Siblings have the best chance of being perfect genetic matches, Mrs. Bolton," he informs me. "Ethan may be our only hope." And I find myself nodding.

"Ethan too," I say.

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A few days later Troy and I pack the kids into the car, Sharpay having gone home just that morning, and head to the hospital for the results.

Dr. Reese approaches us after we've been waiting for only a few minutes in the exam room.

"As expected, you and Troy weren't a match. Ethan matched Leila on four of the proteins. And, usually, that would be enough, but with her stage of acute promyelocytic leukemia, the match needs to be perfect. " He informs us, and I feel my heart crumble.

"Where does that leave us?" Troy asks, speaking what I cannot find the words for.

"We can talk in my office," he says, clearly not wanting the children to hear any of it. Troy stays in the room with them and I head to his office. He closes the door behind us.

"Mrs. Bolton," he starts, "There's always the chance an unrelated donor will be found on the national marrow registry," he tells me.

"Isn't there more of a risk in that?" I ask, racking my mind for everything he's told us.

"Yes, but sometimes it's all we have," He said, smiling sadly at me.

"And in the mean time?" I ask him

"Leila will start chemotherapy for around ten days, to hopefully kill some diseased cells and put her in remission. Common side-effects are vomiting and nausea, which we'll try to treat with antiemetics," He says, and I close my eyes, not sure how this could ever have happened to my little girl.

"Will she lose her hair?" I ask.

"Most likely, yes," he answers, and I feel a tear stream down my face. She has gotten a haircut three times in her life, and now who knows if she ever will again. Her sandy blonde hair that just became long enough to braid. Gone.

The doctor continues naming other side-effects, and consolidation chemotherapy, maintence therapy, and several other action plans. I find myself nodding, although all I want to do is wake up from this nightmare.

"And," he starts, "there's always another sibling." And I'm about to tell him that we only had these two, that Ethan had been our last hope. And that's when I realize he means one that hasn't yet been born.

Troy and I had always said our family was complete because we each had our mini-me. Mine was Ethan, both of us with the same curly dark hair and chocolate eyes, he and Leila both with wavy sandy blonde hair and brilliant sapphire blue eyes.

And now this. A new family. Now the idea of another child. One that was never intended, but one that could save the one I love so dearly.

I am lost for words, but it doesn't matter, because when I turn around, he simply says we ought to get back to Troy.

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Exactly twenty one days later, a full eight days after Leila's chemotherapy session ended, we head home from the hospital.

The experience was something I hope I never experience again, but know I will because in just a few weeks, another session is scheduled. I pull Leila out of her car seat, and kiss her head. Her hair fell out three days ago, and, surprisingly, she took it better than Troy and I did.

Ethan hops out of the car and runs to the front door, where Sharpay greets us. She came back a few days into Leila's chemo to help us take care of Ethan, for which I am extremely grateful. Troy walks over to me, and grabs the bag I have over my shoulder and carries it into the house before returning again to grab the rest of our bags.

A few hours later, Leila asks for a chocolate bar, which Troy quickly runs into the kitchen and pulls out of the fridge, walks back in, and hands it to her.

"Can I have one too?" Ethan asks, and I shake my head.

"You didn't finish dinner," Troy responds for me.

"I hate more than her!" Ethan shrieks, "That's not fair!"

"You're right that's not fair!" Troy screams. "It's not fair she's sick and you're healthy, either, is it? She never complained about that. You want fair, next time she has needle after needle stuck into her, you can too, next time—"

"Troy!" I cut him off. "Stop it," I whisper, hugging Ethan who has his head in the crook of my neck.

And, suddenly ,Troy realizes he lost it and looks at Ethan apologetically. "I'm so sorry, Eth, I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean that," he says quietly.

"It's okay…" Ethan whispers, not turning around.

"Mommy?" Ethan whispers to me.

"Yeah, Eth?" I ask, rubbing his back.

"Is Leila going to die?" I close my eyes at this. Troy and I haven't told Ethan much more than the fact that Leila is sick, and the doctors at the hospital are trying to make them better.

_So, _I think to myself _how do I answer a question like this?_

I wait a while before answering "We'll all be okay."

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That night, I sit on the floor by Leila's bed and watch her sleep.

Sometimes, while she sleeps, I almost forget she's sick for a moment.

I used to imagine how she would look on her wedding day, in a gorgeous white dress. When she was diagnosed, I started, instead, to picture her on her first day of kindergarten. When she started chemo, I stopped picturing anything. This way, everyday, she surpasses any goal I could have.

It's hard for me to believe that I have only known Leila for two years. In those two years, though, I have learned everything there is to know about her. I have made enough memories to last forever. And I have loved her enough to last a lifetime.

I wonder if she'll die like this. In her sleep. Peacefully. Or, if she'll get an infection. If she'll be in pain. If she'll know what's happening, if she'll be scared. If I'll be with her. I don't know any of this. All I know is that when she does die, be it in six years, or sixty, is that she will die loved. And, sometimes, I wonder if that's enough.

I'm not sure how long I've been in here when I hear footsteps. I turn around and see Troy, who walks over and sits next to me.

"Hi," he whispers.

"Hey," I smile back.

"Do you think this is our fault?" He asks. And I want to say no, because that's what all of the doctors have told us. That it has nothing to do with our genes, or anything we've done. But, I can't believe that this would just happen to us. I'm being punished for everything I've ever done wrong in my life by having to watch my two year old daughter fight for her life.

But then there's Troy. And I know that he in no way deserves this. He's perfect. But, maybe that's why this is happening. Because I married a man that I don't deserve, because he is far too amazing. Maybe that's why Leila is sick, to balance out that equation.

"I don't know," I whisper. "I just don't know."

We both sit in silence for a few minutes, before I speak up.

"I've been thinking," I say, and he sits up to listen.

"About?"

"Well…," I pause, not sure I really should bring this up. But then I remember the healthy smiling little Leila I knew a month ago. And I know I need to get her back. "…what do you think about having another baby?"

He looks at me, at first in shock, and then in anger.

"_What?"_ he asks, whispering to not wake Leila, but I know if we were anywhere else in the house he would have shouted it. "Do you really want to just give up on her? To just _replace _her? She might be sick, but she's still our _child!_"

"I know that! You think I want to replace her? We could never do that! Which is why we _need _to do this. To make sure we never have to."

**A/N: I don't really know if I like this chapter…I hope you all did, though. I'll start on chapter 4 tonight or tomorrow.**

**Sorry it took a while to get this out. Friday was my last day of school though, and my friends and I hung out all weekend. As soon as I got home I finished this up, though! Updates might not be all that consistent during the summer, depending on what I'm doing, but hopefully it'll never be too long.**

**Review please!**


	5. Bittersweet

**A/N: Alright, here we go! Chapter four! Second to last chapter before we fast forward 13 years, so get ready! Hope you like this. I personally think it's a lot better than Chapter 3, which I wasn't all that fond of, but let me know what you think!**

**Disclaimer: Are these things really necessary? I mean would anybody possibly believe a teenage girl could own the million dollar industry of HSM? Or write such a beautiful, moving, bestselling book that's being turned into a feature film? Yeah, didn't think so.**

Chapter 4 'Bittersweet'

_Troy's POV_

"Brie?" I shout, walking in the front door. "Ethan and I are home!" I drop off the bags in the kitchen and see Ethan struggling with the two bags he's carrying.

"Need help?" I ask, chuckling. He shakes his head, a determined look on his face as he gets closer to the kitchen to put them down. "Alright, then…" I mumble, making my way back out to the car to grab the last few bags, the streamers and confetti spilling out.

I slam the trunk and walk back into the house, closing the door. I see Ethan standing in the hallway, and smile down at him. "Thanks for helping today, buddy."

"No problem Daddy. I had fun," He says, looking at me as if for approval.

"Well, I'm glad," I laugh. "I had a lot of fun too, it was nice to spend time with just you for a change," I say, and I mean it. In the past six or so months, since Leila got sick, I haven't spent any time with just Ethan for longer than a few minutes here and there while Leila was sick, or in the hospital and I was watching him, too preoccupied with worry over his sister to truly have fun with him.

"Yeah…speaking of which, where's Leila?" He asks, looking around.

"She's asleep," I say. "Hopefully."

"I hope so too, or she'll find out about the party!" He exclaims. He's talking about the surprise party we are throwing for her third birthday. I'm extremely proud of him for keeping it a secret, considering he just turned five a few months ago and usually can't keep a secret for more than a few days.

"I know," I sigh. "Remind me why we waited until four hours before the party to buy the decorations?" I ask, wondering how just he, Gabriella, and I can all manage to put up all of the decorations in our very limited time.

"_Because,_" he says, "Otherwise she would have found them!" He exclaims, dramatically throwing his hands in the air, causing me to laugh.

"Aaaah, I knew we had a reason. Well, either way, we'll need to start. Now. Do you know if Mommy started the cake yet?" I ask.

"Ummm…" he says, pausing to run over the oven, he opens it a crack before shutting it with a bang. "Yep, she started it. Chocolate!" he exclaims.

"Alright, good. What do you want to do first, piñatas or streamers?"

"Piñatas! Definitely!" He exclaims. And I roll my eyes. _Of course a five year old will want to do that first._

"Alright, I'll go get Mom so we can start, you get out the candy, okay?" I ask and he nods.

I walk upstairs and see her sitting on the bathroom floor.

"Hey, Brie, what's wrong?," I ask, sitting down next to her, rubbing her back.

She simply looks up at me, and I see she has been crying. She just shakes her head.

"What? Are you okay? Gabriella?" I ask, scaring myself with all of the possibilities.

She tucks her hair behind her ear and grabs my hand, placing it on her stomach. At first I have no clue what's going on. And that's when I feel it. The very soft, yet distinct kick. I look up at her and she's smiling, and so am I. I lift her up and spin her around, laughing, and I can hear her giggled shrieks.

"Troy! Trooooy!" She laughs. "Put me down!" I pout, but place her back on her feet, her bare feet hitting the tile with a soft thud.

"You're no fun," I complain, sticking my tongue out.

"Hey, don't blame me! _Your _daughter was begging to be put down, not me!"

"Oh, well, I can't be mad at her, can I?" I smile, and put my hand on Gabriella's stomach. Another kick.

"Oh, you will be plenty of times as she grows up," she points out, "But, of course, you'll always forgive her."

"Yeah," I smile.

"I can't believe she's kicking already!" Gabriella said, smiling in awe.

"I know, wow. You're only four months along!"

"I'm pretty sure that's average!" she laughs.

"You know," I say, "You'd think the third time around wouldn't be as exciting as the first."

"But it is," she finishes, and I nod. "Anyway," she says, smoothing her shirt over the small bump, "What did you come up here for?"

"Oh, right, we're going to start filling the piñatas. Want to help?"

"Sure," she smiles. "Wow, three already…"

"I know, the years have gone so fast! Seems like just yesterday she was turning one," I say, wondering how my little girl grew up before my very eyes.

"And Ethan! He's five! I can't believe it! When did that happen?"

"I know, he just turned five two months ago, and he's already talking about six! Kindergarten in the fall!" I exclaim, wondering how he grew from a small picture on the ultrasound screen to a crawling baby, to a preschool graduate right before my eyes.

"Alright, well, we better go down, before Ethan eats all of the candy," She sighs, waiting for me to follow her downstairs.

"Yeah, we don't need a repeat of Halloween," I laugh, following her down the staircase.

-----------------------

"Can you hand me that streamer?" Gabriella asks, and I momentarily stop blowing up balloons and toss her the cotton candy pink streamers and a roll of tape.

"Can I hang this up?" Ethan asks, struggling to lift a poster of Dora that Gabriella painted the day before, along with around two dozen backpacks to play "Pin the Backpack on Dora".

"Sure, just don't rip it, okay?" Gabriella responds, now moving onto the baby blue streamers.

"Okay!" He responds, running inside to grab another roll of tape.

"Why'd we have to throw a party on the hottest day of the summer?" I ask, grabbing my water bottle and guzzling it, the droplets on the bottle dripping onto my gray v-neck t-shirt.

"Because her birthday fell on the hottest day of the summer?" she replies, tearing a piece of masking tape off of the roll and places down the end of the streamer, now only a centimeter or so thick, and reaches for a sunshine yellow roll. "The real question is, however," she responds, continuing the tedious task of hanging streamers, "how I got stuck with the streamers. Again."

"Ah, that would be because Ethan isn't tall enough, and I don't want you to get lightheaded from blowing up too many balloons. Especially since you're pregnant," I reply, matter of fact-ly, turning to help Ethan straighten the poster on the side of the house.

"Of course," she replies, rolling her chocolate brown eyes, looping the streamer yet again.

"What time is it?" Ethan asks suddenly, and I can't help but wonder how much time we've got left to finish up. I pull my phone out of my pocket and glance at the time. 11:04.

"Just past 11," I reply, "Still two hours until the party starts, Aunt Sharpay's flight lands in an hour."

"11? What time did Leila fall asleep?" Gabriella asks, and I think back to the night before, where our daughter finally wasn't kept up until three a.m. from some side effect of the cancer, thanks to a new medication she's on.

"10?" I reply, uncertain, "She's bound to be up, I'll go check on her," I say, turning to see her tearing off the end of the streamers, preparing to move to the other side of the patio to continue her handiwork, "You keep up with those streamers," I laugh, sliding open the screen door connecting our family room to the outdoor patio deck.

"Will do!" She replies, mock saluting me.

I enter Leila's bedroom, the pale green walls covered in pictures, both drawn and photographs, stuffed animals taking over, and see my daughter working on a puzzle of a cat, sitting at her little chalkboard table, her pajamas carelessly discarded on the floor, and the clothes she presumably picked out herself on backwards.

"Hi Lay," I smile, kissing her head.

"Morning Daddy!" She greets, looking up at me briefly, before turning back to her puzzle.

"Been up long?" I ask, taking a seat opposite of her.

"Um, no, not really, I don't think," she replies, shrugging her shoulders.

"Well, you got dressed my yourself, I see," I tell her, indicating her purple Capri's and polka dot blouse that's on backwards.

"Yeah, I'm a big girl!" She exclaims.

"A birthday girl!" I smile at her and she looks up at me.

"I forgot! I'm three?" She replies, almost as if she's asking me.

"You're three!" I smile.

"Wow, am I older than Ethan yet?" she asks, and I chuckle.

"No, he's still got two years on you," I reply, standing up, and reaching out my hand for her to grab.

"Am I older than my little sister?" She asks, confusion shining in her eyes that are the same striking shade of blue as mine.

"Yes, by three years," I say, walking her over to her dresser. "Now, Miss Leila, birthday girl, not that your outfit isn't very pretty, which it is, but I think Mommy got you a special dress to wear, huh?" I ask, and she nods her head fervently. "Okay, now let's get you changed!" I say, pulling out the flow-y aqua dress.

"Oooh, pretty!" She says.

"Just like you!" I whisper into her ear, and she giggles.

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I hear the doorbell ring and look over at the clock on the wall. 1:56.

"Oh, wonder who that could be?" I ask, and Leila shrugs her shoulders. "How about you go up to your room real quick, Aunt Sharpay will meet you there," I suggest, and she nods, hopping up the stairs, a spring in her step that I've missed seeing.

"Shar!" I shout, and she comes into the house.

"Yeah?" She asks, tucking a piece of her wavy blonde hair behind her ears.

"Can you go up and wait with Leila while the guests arrive? So it's a surprise?" I ask, as the doorbell rings again. I shout a 'Coming!' and Sharpay nods, making her way up the stair well.

I walk over to the front door and pull it open, revealing a friend of Leila's, Molly, clutching at her mother's hand, a gift bag in the other. "Hey, thanks for coming!" I enthuse, moving to the side, allowing the child and her mother in, as I take the gift from her and lead them to the back.

--------------------------------

Ten minutes later, I hear Sharpay and Leila making their way through the house after Gabriella texted Shar to tell her it was okay to come out. When the screen door opens, a dozen three year-olds, a few 5 year olds that are friends of Ethan's, and about a dozen parents, or friends of mine and Gabriella's all instantaneously shout 'Surprise!' And Leila jumps up, her dress swishing up in the air with her, and her hands reaching up to her mouth, the purple nail polish chipping off.

Gabriella makes her way over to her, and Leila jumps into her arms.

"Mommy!" She exclaims, peeking over her mother's shoulders. "A party? For me?" She asks, nervously.

"Of course, my Layliebug!" Gabriella exclaims, placing our daughter down, and placing her hand on her rounded stomach.

"Oh, thank you Mommy! And Daddy!" She shrieks, running over to hug me, and then Ethan.

"Anytime, my darling," I respond, although she's now too far away, off into the crowd of her friends, clapping her hands joyously.

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A few hours, dozens of high-pitched screams, and three open piñatas later, and I'm sitting around the table, watching Sharpay light the candles on Leila's cake. Once all four were lit (one was for good luck, goodness knows we needed that), we sang Happy Birthday to her, as her face glowed in excitement.

"_Happy Birthday to You! Happy Birthday to You! Happy Birthday to Leila! Happppy Birthday to you!"_

And, as I watched my daughter blow out her candles, I couldn't help but wonder if we threw this huge party in honor of her life, or the little bit of life she has left.

_**A/N: Okay, I give you all permission to hate me. It's been two weeks since my last update and, honestly, I never planned on waiting this long before writing this! But we've had totally random power outages for hours at a time thanks to lightning storms, and my friend was over for four days in a row, and I've just been having a fun summer, totally forgetting about this fic, and I'm so so sorry. But I finally sat down and wrote this. **_

_**I truly hope it was worth it, and that you enjoyed it. **_

_**Please review**_**! And if you saw My Sister's Keeper the movie, be sure to leave a review, and/or PM me with your thoughts.**


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